Kidnapping Elliot Stabler
by Quirky Writer
Summary: CHAPTER 5 FINALLY UP! Alma's evil little scheme has begun to unfold, but has Olivia reached a dead end in the case? Aaaand... the longawaited and much demanded departure of Kathy!
1. Chapter 1: Abduction

**Summary:** A hysterical teenaged girl says her best friend was murdered and sexually assaulted, but when Elliot and Olivia show up at the crime scene, three rabid fangirls kidnap him, and knock out Olivia. Can Olivia, Munch, and the rest of the SVU team find Elliot before the unthinkable happens? Or will the crafty fangirls torture Elliot with their vast knowledge of SVU trivia until he cries? Or will Elliot have to save himself from the girls' sexual advances? A humorous, sort-of sequel to "The Kiss".

**Disclaimer:** I own Cynthia, Alma, and Misty, but Benson, Stabler, Munch, Fin, Cragen and everyone else belongs to the oh-so-lovely Dick Wolf.

**Rated:** T for some sexuality and brief strong language.

* * *

_Kidnapping Elliot Stabler_

By Quirky Writer

* * *

**Chapter 1:** _Abduction_

Just when they thought for sure that their work was finally over, that they could go home and rest for a day or two, Benson and Stabler were faced with yet another sex crime.

They had finally caught their perp – a slimy, unpleasant WalMart cashier called Vincent Drapella, who was nevertheless elusive – who'd been raping and then strangling women, then dumping the bodies in front of restaurants. After calling for back-up, Benson and Stabler caught him in his home, watching television in just his underwear and socks. At the sight of the dozen or so police officers wielding rather ominous black guns, Drapella instantly burst into tears and warbled before anyone even said a word, "I diiiiiiiid iiiiiiit! I kiiiilled them! I'm sowwy! Pwease don't huwrt me!"

Drapella was read his rights – although they weren't worth a damn now, since he had unwittingly confessed to the murders – and was now sitting, handcuffed, in Munch's squad car, still sobbing and shaking, waiting to be taken to the precinct.

Now Benson and Stabler were walking towards the car, chatting amicably, and very glad to go home early for once,

"Can you believe that idiot actually confessed?"

"And to think we called in back-up," Stabler shook his head, grinning. "Pansy."

They laughed.

They were only a few feet away from the car, when they heard the scream.

"Did you hear that?" Stabler's head whipped around, trying to find where and who it came from.

"There," Olivia pointed.

A short, blonde girl, maybe in her late teens, wearing a bright red sweater, was half-running, half-limping towards them. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, her jeans were torn.

"Help!" She screamed, her voice raspy. "Help! Help me, please!"

She stumbled and fell to the pavement. Olivia and Elliot ran to her, and helped her stand.

"Sweetie, calm down, calm down," Olivia said in a pacifying voice, "Tell me your name."

"Cynthia," She choked out between sobs. "Please – my friend, you've got to help her…."

"Tell us what happened," Elliot said.

"W-w-we were taking a shortcut through the alley," Cynthia whimpered. "Me and my best friend Alma. And then this man jumped out from behind some garbage cans. He hit me.… knocked me to the ground, put a gun to my head and told me to stay down. Then he grabbed Alma and stuffed his hand down her shirt. She screamed, and…. and he shot her. I think she's dead!"

She began to sob uncontrollably, rocking back and forth. She clung to Olivia, wrapping her arms around her waist. It was then that Olivia realized that Cynthia's sweater was not red; it was drenched in warm blood.

"Which alley?" Elliot asked fiercely.

Wordlessly, Cynthia pointed.

Elliot turned and began to run.

"El–" Olivia began, but Cynthia suddenly stepped back.

"Sorry, sister," She said, as Olivia turned back towards her. "He's mine now!"

A rather hard, heavy object suddenly struck the back of Olivia's skull. She crumpled to the ground, blood trickling through her hair, down her neck.

The last thing she noticed was that on the tips of her sneakers, Cynthia had written "SVU FAN" in big, purple letters.

* * *

Stabler skidded to a halt in front of a dark, shadowy alley, pausing briefly to take out his gun, and then hurrying into the alley, dodging knocked over garbage cans and puddles.

There was a scurrying, scratching sound.

"Police!" He shouted. "Show yourself!"

There was silence. Elliot moved in deeper. It was very difficult to see; everything looked alike.

Then he saw the shape of a woman – Alma – lying face-up on the ground, her eyes open, her mouth agape, tongue lolling from her mouth. Her shirt was stained with blood, it pooled around her. Elliot knelt beside her, and put a hand to her throat. His heart leapt – there was a pulse! A steady, healthy pulse. Miraculous.

"Olivia!" He bellowed over his shoulder. "Call EMS! Hurry!"

He turned back to Alma. She was older than Cynthia, probably in her mid-twenties, slim, and had chestnut brown hair and a long nose. If she weren't seriously injured, she would have looked comical, with her tongue flopped out of her mouth ridiculously. Alma suddenly blinked, and gazed up at Elliot with slightly crossed, unfocused eyes.

"Alma," He whispered to her, "Alma, can you hear me? I'm a police officer, you've been shot. We're sending an ambulance. Can you talk to me? Tell me how you're feeling."

_"... Sexy!"_

And to Elliot's utter bewilderment, Alma sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, practically leaping into his lap.

"What the hell!" Elliot tried to pry her off him; her grip was like steel. "What're you doing?"

Alma was furiously rubbing her hand across his bristly, rapidly receding hair. "I love your hair, Elliot," She purred.

That was it – no one screwed with his hair.

Elliot stood up, and Alma fell heavily to the ground, emitting a loud, "Ooof!" and then giggling like a kindergartener who had been given excessive amounts of sugar. Elliot started to walk away, pissed off and ready to complain to Olivia, but then another girl appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path,

"Get 'im, Misty!" Alma screeched.

And before Elliot could react, the mystery girl promptly whacked him on top of his head with a very hard object, and he immediately blacked out.

* * *

Cynthia, Alma, and Misty had some minor trouble hauling Elliot into the truck. But after some, some minor bickering and a quick resolution, Elliot was finally shoved into the back, rather cramped – even when stretched out – across the passenger seats thanks to his 6-foot-frame.

"Think he's going to wake up anytime soon?" Cynthia panted. She had stripped off her ketchup-soaked sweater and left it at the "crime scene", along with Alma's T-shirt. Alma was now proudly strutting around in her pink, lacy push-up bra and jeans.

"Doubtful," Misty replied. She was a tall, slightly plump woman, around 30, with very large blue eyes and wispy reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail. "I hit him pretty hard. He should be out for at least an hour."

Alma turned on Misty threateningly, "I swear to God, if you killed him…."

"Grow up," Misty snapped back. She held up giant, blow-up mallet, with a look of reverence that suggested she held the Holy Grail in her hands. "The Mallet always does its work with sensitivity."

Alma rolled her eyes and ignored her comment. "I'm sitting in back with him."

"What? NO!" Misty trilled. "If he wakes up then you're going to end up molesting him!"

"I will not!" Alma exclaimed, insulted. "I will not molest him! We shall make sweet, passionate love – the kind of amorous, adoring, _poignant_ lovemaking that an insignificant _speck_ of a human being such as you could never, ever comprehend!"

They glared at each other for a moment. Cynthia heaved a sigh, and checked her watch. Any second now, the dam would burst and all the anger would break through….

"Idiot." Misty said.

"Moron." Alma promptly returned.

"Airhead."

"Chickenshit."

"Bitch!"

"Fatty!"

"Slut!"

"Whore!"

_"CAR!"_ Cynthia screamed.

The ladies immediately ran to their designated stations – Alma, blocking the license plate, Cynthia blocking the front plate, and Misty blocked the passenger seat window by Elliot.

The car passed.

Cynthia sighed, relieved, "Great they're gone. Okay, guys, let's quit fighting. We are three intelligent adults, and we cheapen this noble cause when we bicker. Don't you realize what we have achieved? My friends," She spread her arms wide, "We have kidnapped Elliot Stabler!"

The trio sighed dreamily.

"Now…. to The Fort!"

"I GET TO SIT WITH ELLIOT!" Alma yelled.

* * *

A/N: More to come…. Read and review, rate from 1 to 5. Hope you'll like it as much as "The Kiss"! The reviews for it were so overwhelmingly lovely, thank you so much! Your kind encouragement meant a lot to me. Thanks again!

Love,

Q.W.


	2. Chapter 2: Confusion

**Disclaimer:** Again, the SVU squad belong to the wonderful Dick Wolf. However, Cynthia, Alma, Misty and The Mallet belong to my wickedly brilliant mind... Oh who am I kidding – I'm not brilliant! Oh, well, enjoy this new chapter anyway!

* * *

Chapter 2: Confusion

* * *

When Olivia Benson awoke, it was raining. The sidewalk she lay on was wet and slick, she was soaked to the skin. She had a splitting headache, and there was a dull, pinching sort of pain at the back of her head. Olivia sat up, sighing, reached a hand to the painful spot, and felt dried blood.

That was when she remembered what happened.

"Elliot!" She gasped.

She jumped to her feet – her knees buckled, but she ignored them – and hurried, stumblingly, down the street. Which alley had he gone down? Was he still there? Was he dead?

She found the familiar alley and rushed down it. She scanned the area. There were signs of a struggle – garbage cans had been knocked over, and two discarded shirts were on the ground.

"Wait a minute…." Olivia muttered to herself.

She recognized the bloodied sweater to be Cynthia's – except it wasn't bloody anymore. What she had thought had been blood was now running off the sweater, thanks to the rain, and had made a pale, mottled reddish stain. She picked the sweater up, held it to her nose. Her suspicions were confirmed – it was ketchup. It was all starting to make sense now. Elliot had been kidnapped by that girl. And it wasn't just any ordinary girl…. Cynthia was a fangirl.

"Oh God, Elliot…." She whispered. She checked her watch. It was 5: 23. Almost two hours had passed. Elliot could be anywhere; they could be doing anything to him….

Olivia's mind was racing. She was trying to figure out how and where these girls might have taken him. Since there was a second T-shirt here – also covered in ketchup – it must have belonged to Cynthia's friend, Alma. But there was no way two teenaged girls could have forced Elliot into leaving with them. Unless he'd been knocked out, like she had been. But even then, Elliot would have been too heavy for just two skinny girls to carry. There had to have been a third accomplice – maybe even a fourth.

Olivia opened her cell phone. She had missed three calls – two from Cragen, one from Munch. She punched in Cragen's number.

Pause.

"Hello?" Cragen's voice was tense.

"Cragen, it's Olivia."

"Olivia! Thank God." His spoke to his apparent audience. "I've got Olivia on the line, shut up!" Back to Olivia. "Where are you?"

"Just down the street from Drapella's apartment and –" Olivia started to answer.

"Is Elliot with you?" Cragen interrupted.

"No, that's what I was trying to say –" She began.

"Oh good," He said. "We were all worried that you went home with each other and had sex. Didn't we, guys?"

There was a chorus of slightly muffled "yeahs".

"What! Why the hell would you think that?"

"Because Quirky Writer watched another SVU marathon and we all thought it had further addled her already sick and twisted mind." Cragen said. "Munch and Fin were worried that maybe she might want to write a slash fic, they've been avoiding each other all day."

"Cragen, that doesn't matter, this is serio-"

"It does so matter! If Quirky Writer HAD made you and Elliot have sex, then –"

"_Would you pull your head out of your ass and listen to me?"_ Olivia screamed.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Olivia decided to take this as an apology.

"Look, Cragen, we never even got to our car this afternoon after we got Drapella, much less go home and bang each other. This girl came running to us, saying her best friend had been killed and Elliot rushed off to find her. The girl knocked me out, and I think they kidnapped Elliot."

"What?" Cragen was bewildered. "Are you sure?"

"Well he's not here!" Olivia snapped. "And he's in trouble, I know he is!"

"Why would some girls kidnap Stabler? I mean, he's probably old enough to be their father."

"Cragen…." Her voice became quiet. "They were fangirls."

She heard Cragen suck in his breath. There was a short pause. "Do you know where they might have gone?"

"No," Olivia said. She could feel tears rising, choking her throat, but her voice was steady. "I don't know."

"This is bad, Olivia… This is really, really bad."

"I know."

"There might be sing-a-longs."

"There might be episode trivia."

"Oh God, the trivia…. Olivia, we're all going to be on this case. We've only got a matter of time before the trail goes cold. We've got to find Elliot."

* * *

Elliot awoke in a small room. He could hear the buzz of a TV somewhere in the background. He was sitting in a chair, his head resting on his chest. His hands were bound behind his back. His eyesight was bleary, his head hurt vaguely. There was a sudden, faint whispering sound, and some giggles, and then a frantic, "Shut up!"

"Elliot?" A distinctly female voice said.

He raised his head. Someone was sitting next to him, but it was dark, and he couldn't see who she was.

"Elliot? Are you awake?"

"Mmm…" He mumbled.

"Would 'mmm' be a yes?"

"Where am I?" Elliot asked. His head was spinning. "Who are you people?"

There was more whispering and giggling. They sounded oddly like the Munchkins from _The Wizard of Oz_. Elliot hated that movie…. Those damn flying monkeys always scared the crap out of him when he was a kid. Monkeys aren't supposed to fly, much less wear little hats and vests! It's just unnatural….

The lights flipped on.

"SURPRISE!"

The light had dazzled Elliot; he could barely see a thing. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.

Then everything cleared, and the room came into full view.

And all thoughts of the flying monkeys were gone.

Three grinning girls were seated at the table in front of him. They all wore sparkly, pointed party hats in bright colors; one had a noisemaker in her hand and another was holding a gigantic, white-frosted cake. On the pale, bluish walls there were posters of the SVU team, in every situation, some of them even freeze-frame pictures that had probably been Googled, then blown up and hung on the wall. In the corner of the room, there was a guitar, a set of keyboards and a clarinet. A TV was in another corner, very close to some stairs – _we're in someone's basement!_ Elliot realized.

And hung above it all, there were multi-colored streamers, and a bright purple and yellow banner that read:

**WE LOVE YOU ELLIOT!**

Please don't be mad at us for kidnapping you.

"…. What the hell is all this?"

"We," said the girl in the middle, who Elliot suddenly recognized to be Cynthia, the girl who had started this whole crazy mess in the first place. "Wanted to welcome you to our humble abode in the nicest, most sophisticated way. Want some cake?"

"Uh, no, look –"

"Are you sure? It's really delicious."

"No thanks, I –"

"I made it myself. From scratch."

"LOOK, I don't want any damn cake!" Elliot shouted. "I just want to know what I'm doing here? Where am I?"

There was a short pause.

"You're tense," The girl on the left, Alma, Elliot realized, piped up. "That's understandable, considering the circumstances. Would you like a soothing neck massage?"

"No!"

"Or I could massage your shoulders, if you'd like. Or even your privates, I learned how to do it in this weird, karma-sutra sex class thingie I went to with my friends. Although that might be sort of awkward since we just met."

"I don't want you touching me." Elliot said through gritted teeth. "No massages. None. At all. Ever. Now could you please tell me where I am at?"

"You," The girl on the right, a chubby redhead, said. "Are in The Fort."

"The Fort, the Fort, the Fort, the Fort…." Alma and Cynthia echoed dramatically.

"O.…kay…. And you are?..."

"Misty Roseanna Ambrose!" Misty exclaimed, standing up and curtsying.

"Okay. So, uh, Misty," Elliot switched gears, deciding to be more personable. He might get more information if they didn't know he really wanted to kill them right now. "Can you tell me how you got me here? I'm sort of hazy on the details."

"Oh you're so silly, Elliot," She snickered. "I hit you with The Mallet and then you passed out. And then we put you in my car and drove you here, to The Fort."

Misty let out a loud, shuddering gasp. "Ooooh! Do you want to see The Mallet?"

Alma and Cynthia groaned.

"Shut up, bitches!"

Misty whipped off her party hat and then ran up the stairs, taking them two by two.

There was silence. Cynthia and Alma were now beaming at Elliot.

"Look," Cynthia said. "I think we all got off on the wrong foot – what with me and Alma tricking you and all. I'd like to formally apologize for my actions, but, to be honest, I think all this is for the best."

"How so?" Elliot was suspicious.

"Well, now I can pick apart your brain piece by piece," Cynthia said cheerfully.

After seeing the horrified look on Elliot's face, Cynthia hastily added, "Not in the literal sense, of course. I'm eighteen, I'm going to college soon, and I'm hoping to become a cop and work in the Special Victim's Unit, like you and Olivia. But I've got a lot to learn, so I thought to myself: who's the most brilliant, toughest, sexiest police officer ever? And then it came to me – DUH! Elliot Stabler! So that's why you're here."

She beamed again.

"So, let me get this straight," Elliot blinked. "You kidnapped me so you could ask me questions about my job?"

"Yes!" Cynthia nodded enthusiastically.

"Well then, what about you?" Elliot looked over at Alma. "Why did you want to kidnap me, too?"

"I want to jump your bones." Alma said brightly.

_**SLAM!**_

Misty came running back down the stairs, clutching a giant blow-up mallet.

"This," She said grandly, brandishing The Mallet with utmost reverence. "Is The Mallet."

"Yeah, that's really nice…."

Misty's excited face immediately fell. "I can sense your sarcasm, Elliot. And it hurts me."

"I'm sorry," Elliot apologized hastily. He didn't like the suddenly crazy look in Misty's eyes. "I'm just not too thrilled to be here. I'm flattered that you ladies took such an interest in me and my job, but what you're doing isn't right. I want to go home and see my family. So could you please just let me go?"

"No." Misty said tonelessly. In the background, Cynthia and Alma exchanged a look – a look that made Stabler a little nervous.

However, he continued. "Please, Misty? I want to leave. I'm not happy here."

"No," Misty said again.

"Misty," Elliot's tone was harsher now. "Eventually the police are going to find us. My partner is going to find you and she's going to make sure your sorry ass stays in jail for a long time. You should just give yourself up and let me go home."

"_YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" _Misty screeched suddenly. "You're not _LEAVING!"_

Misty brought The Mallet down on the cake with incredible force, and the cake splattered, sending gigantic globs of white frosting and spongy chocolate flying everywhere.

"Case closed." She said calmly.

* * *

**A/N:** Heh heh…. Damn those SVU marathons! They cause nothing but trouble. And for those of you who are scratching your heads and saying, "How is this a sequel to The Kiss?", to answer your question, I'm calling it a 'sort-of' sequel because I'm using elements and plot facets from The Kiss that I think benefit Kidnapping – e.g., the fanatic fangirls, and my omnipresent self. Just wanted to clear that up. And you can expect updates to "Kidnapping Elliot Stabler" every Saturday, or Friday. Ciao!

Love,

Q.W.


	3. Chapter 3: Hints

**Disclaimer:** I own Cynthia, Alma, Misty, and the guy with the flashlight. THEY ARE MIIIIIIIINE! But Stabler, Benson and everyone else are not mine, sadly….

* * *

Chapter 3: Hints

* * *

Elliot was sure that this was Hell.

Or, at least, something pretty close to it.

Cynthia, Alma, and Misty were sitting on the floor a few feet away from him, and all were fiddling with items they'd clearly stolen from him while he was unconscious, just an hour or so ago. Misty was holding his badge and was reflecting it in the light, apparently attempting to blind herself, although she was grinning like an idiot. Cynthia was holding Elliot's gun, and had been randomly aiming at inanimate objects and saying, "BOOM!" or "BANG!" or "BLAM!" and then giggling madly and adding, "I am so badass." And Alma was wearing Elliot's signature long black coat, and had it buttoned all the way up, so just her eyes and forehead peeked out above the collar. For the last twenty minutes or so, she had been inhaling deeply, and then exhaling long, dreamy sighs that were making Elliot extremely uncomfortable, and he made a mental note to burn the coat if and when he got out of here.

And to make matters worse, the girls were exchanging "remember that one episode" remarks. And consequently,Elliot was about ready to bash his head against the wall.

"Remember that one episode where he was lifting those really big, heavy weights?" Misty chattered. "And he was all sweaty and hot, and his shirt was all wet?"

"Yeah!" Alma, whose voice was slightly muffled as her mouth was hidden inside the coat, nodded enthusiastically. "And then Olivia walked in?"

"And she tried really hard not to look like she was turned on by that, but she totally was?" Cynthia finished.

"That was a good episode." Misty nodded.

"That was so hot," Alma agreed.

"Hey, remember that one episode where Elliot went home after a really long, hard day at work, and he was all tired, and then undressed and we got to see him in his underwear?"

"Oooooh yeah! And it they were BLUE!"

"So they weren't tightie-whities, they were tightie-BLUSEYS!"

"And we got to see his bulge!"

They all squealed manically.

"Oh my God….." Elliot muttered.

"And remember that one episode where Elliot was, like, all pissed off at this child molester," Alma said, gasping slightly for breath, "Cause he tried to convict the guy before, but he got out for some weird reason, and then they were all in the interrogation room, and they got a confession and –"

"And then he went out and he punched the lockers!" Misty finished gleefully, clapping her hands. "Oh my God, that was SO cool! And remember that one episode with that Russian whore they were interrogating, and she was totally hitting on Elliot?" Cynthia added.

"Yeah!"

"That was cool."

"And remember that one episode with the lady who had some weird disease that made her really horny all the time," Cynthia said excitedly. "And she had sex with all those underaged boys, but then Benson and Stabler got her, and when Stabler was interrogating her, she, like, totally French-kissed him and grabbed his crotch and said "Let's get it on!" and then he shoved her and she got knocked out?"

"That was so hot!" Misty agreed.

"A disease that makes you horny all the time? I think I might have that…." Alma glanced sideways at Elliot and licked her lips.

_Dear God,_ Elliot prayed silently. _I swear if you get me out of here before this crazy slut tries to bang me, then I will never partake in another fanfiction ever again._

To which God replied, "Well, ordinarily I would, Elliot, but then Quirky Writer would be out of a job. And if she's out of a job, then she might decide to start robbing banks in her free time, rather than writing short, humorous fanfictions. And I can't have that, now can I?"

"No, you can't," Quirky Writer smiled. "Thanks, God!"

But although God may not have been on poor Elliot's side, thankfully, the rest of the SVU squad was….

* * *

Cragen, Olivia, Fin and Munch had stopped by the place where Elliot had been kidnapped, to find the fangirls' discarded shirts, in hope that perhaps some DNA could be salvaged from the clothes.

"I doubt we'll find anything," Cragen said, looking grave. "This is a waste of time."

"Don't be so cynical," Olivia replied in a surprisingly flinty tone, pulling on a pair of gloves.

They walked into the alley. The shirts were still lying there, on the wet concrete. Olivia reached down and picked one up, as did Fin.

"And besides," Olivia added. "These could be our only leads if evidence is found. We've got no leads, we've got no witnesses –" Olivia suppressed the urge to add _Our pets' heads are falling off!_ and resisted,"– And if we don't find something soon then…."

"Olivia!" Fin said suddenly. "I've found something."

Immediately, the trio of cops crowded around him.

"What is it?" Cragen asked eagerly.

"It's this shirt," He held up a pink, frilly chemise. "Our perp wrote her name on the tag."

"You're joking!" Olivia snatched it away from him.

Sure enough, **_Alma Prescott_** was written in big, cramped lettersinpermanent black ink on the tag.

Munch shook his head. "I love idiotic criminals."

"Munch, Fin, see if we can find this Alma Prescott," Cragen said, and took Cynthia's shirt away from Olivia to give to him. "And see if maybe she knows someone named Cynthia."

"…. I have to go with him…. Alone?" Munch asked, slightly tentative.

"_She's not going to write a slash fic!"_

"That's right, old man, so you're stuck with me," Fin grabbed Munch roughly by the elbow and waltzed off with him.

Once they were gone, Olivia turned back to Cragen.

"Cragen," Olivia frowned at him. "Why didn't you let me go with them? I saw Alma and Cynthia, I could help them narrow the suspects down quicker."

"Olivia, I just think you need to relax a little," Cragen said soothingly. "You've had a rough day, you're injured, and you look like hell. Why don't you go home and rest for a while, we've got this."

"First of all," Olivia began fervently, her eyes flashing, as a band began to play quiet, mood-appropriate music, and the lights all around her darkened for her dramatic monologue. "My day hasn't been nearly as rough as the day Elliot has to suffer through right now. He has been kidnapped by fangirls, Cragen! Do you know how much he must be suffering? And I refuse to go home and just sit idly by when my partner, someone I care for in a _totally_ brother-sister way, but have no sexual or romantic feelings for whatsoever, is in pain, because _I feel his pain_. I can't and won't rest until we have Elliot back again. I'll do whatever it takes, I'll climb every mountain, search high and low, I'll ford every stream, follow every rainbow, until I find him and bring him home again!"

"Didn't you steal that from _The Sound of Music_?" A voice behind Olivia said.

Olivia and Cragen turned and, to their horror, Kathy stood there, staring at them, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Kathy!" Olivia exclaimed before she could stop herself. "Oh…. _Hi_….. How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough," She said stiffly, and motioned behind her. "I brought the band." The lights suddenly flickered, as if agitated. "….And the lights."

"Thank you!" A man sitting at the top of a ladder raised his flashlight and waved merrily.

Kathy ignored him and spoke to Cragen. Her voice was very cold, "Please tell me why it is that I had to find out that my husband has been kidnapped by fangirls and is possibly in mortal peril, not from you, his boss and his confidante, but from a pack of hysterical SVU fans who knocked on my door this afternoon and asked for a donation for the Save Elliot from Certain Death by Fangirls Foundation, and then once they recognized me, bombarded me with questions about Elliot and why I want a divorce, ran inside my house, scared my kids half to death, used my toilet, wrote **"harlot"** on my bedroom walls with my lipstick, and stole all the chocolate chip cookies I had made this morning."

Cragen blinked, "Well, uh, Kathy, we…. We thought you might not be able to uh…. Well, we…."

"They didn't think you'd give a shit." The man with the flashlight shouted from up on the ladder.

Kathy looked at Olivia and Cragen, shocked and appalled. "You didn't think I'd care about Elliot's safety? Why?"

"Because you're a cold-hearted bitch who tore his heart into a million tiny little pieces when you served him with divorce papers for no apparent reason other than _"oooh you're never hoooome anymore, you don't looooove meeeeeanymoreeeee"_ and took away his kids!" The man with the flashlight shouted again.

"_Shut up!"_ Kathy snapped with such viciousness that the man let out a loud yelp of fright and toppled head-over-feet off the ladder, and landed in a garbage can with a loud crash, his flashlight clattering across the pavement.

Kathy turned back to Cragen and Olivia, now composed. "So…. You didn't think I would care about Elliot just because we're getting divorced?"

"Um…. Yes?" Cragen said the word and immediately jumped behind Olivia, using her as a shield.

"I see," Kathy said stonily. "Well, you're both wrong. I might not be in love with Elliot anymore, but I do care about him."

"How sweet," Cragen said from behind Olivia. She nudged him, and he reluctantly came back out in front.

"Exactly," Kathy said. "And this is why I want to help you find him."

There was a long pause.

The man with the flashlight popped his head out of the garbage can, a banana peel perched on his head, and exclaimed with great excitement, "What a fantastic plot twist!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Cynthia, Misty, and Alma had moved on from playing with Elliot's things and exchanging episode trivia, and had maneuvered him and the chair he was tied to in front of their musical instruments.

"And now for your listening pleasure," Alma said grandly, holding her clarinet, "We present to you, our own rendition of the Law & Order: SVU theme song!"

She looked behind her. "Ready, girls?"

"Ready!" Misty, who was at the keyboards, and Cynthia, who had the guitar, said in unison.

"Aaaaaand a one, and a two and a threeeeeeee!"

The three girls began to pound away on their instruments with uncontrolled ferocity, and Cynthia began to sing,

"Bah BUM, bum bum bum bum bum baaaaaah, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo, bum bum bum bum bummmmm bummmmm, WER WER WER WER NERRRNEERRRR…."

"And now, my interpretive dance!" Alma yelled above the noise, and she leaped in front of Elliot, twisting her body around and gyrating andsashayingwhile playing the clarinet. She then fell on the ground and waved her legs in the air like a synchronized swimmer in a pool. Elliot just watched it all in pure, miserable awe.

Once the song was over, Alma, Cynthia and Misty stood and bowed low for him, and then stared at Elliot with anxious faces.

"Well?" Misty whispered. "What did you think?"

"….. If you're going to kill me, then for the love of God, can you please just get it over with?" Elliot said.

* * *

A/N: Next week…. The cuffs are off, Elliot gets a little freedom – or does he? And what will Olivia find when she digs into Alma's past? Read and find out… NEXT SATURDAY!

Love,

Q.W.


	4. Chapter 4: Shock

**Disclaimer:** QuirkyWriter strums a guitar and sings in a warbly soprano voice:

_I own nothing_

_It is not mine_

_Almost everything belongs to_

_Dick Wolf the divine!_

_Well, except for Cynthia_

_And Alma and Misty_

_They belong to me_

_Which ain't too shabby!_

_Oh, and Marty Webber_

_And his lover Adeline_

_And don't forget the Mallet_

_All of that is miiiiiiine!_

_

* * *

_

Chapter 4: Shock

* * *

For about an hour, the trio of girls had been perfectly content watching a re-run of Law and Order: CI and making fun of Goron's "ass chin" and Eane's "really oogly hair". Elliot, however, was beginning to feel quite a lot of pain; his wrists were aching, as were his arms, after being pinned back behind him in one place for so long. Not to mention the fact that he'd been sitting in a rather hard, uncomfortable chair for about three hours, so his ass was in a surprisingly large amount of pain. And on top of that, he was hungry, too.

"Uh, hey…. Guys? Girls," He corrected himself hastily. All eyes swiveled towards him in anticipation of what he would say. "Ladies. Er, whatever…. I don't mean to complain, but I am really hungry, and –"

At once, Misty let out a shuddering gasp, Cynthia's hands flew to her mouth in horror, and Alma instantly flung herself across the room and latched herself onto Elliot's legs.

"I am so sorry!" Alma gasped. "I am! I am so, so, so sorry! This cannot go unpunished! You must teach me a lesson! _Spank me!"_

"Get off!" Elliot kicked out and Alma somersaulted backwards.

Misty looked very distressed. "I hadn't even thought of that!" She gasped. "Or…. Oh my God! What about a bed? Where's he going to sleep? Who's going to sleep with him to make sure he doesn't escape?"

"Oooh! Oooh! Me! Me! Me!" Alma jumped up and down.

"Let's just focus on the most pressing matter as of right now," Cynthia said in a composed voice. "Food."

"Right. Okay." Misty looked over at Elliot. "What sounds good to you? I could cook, I could go out and get you something… Whatever you want."

"Oh, I don't know…." Elliot began, but his mind was racing. What was the most outlying, rarest, most difficult food to get? Or make? The more time he had the better chance he had of finding a phone, or sneaking up the stairs, or finding his gun again.

"Maybe if you hadn't smashed the cake I baked then we wouldn't have this problem," Cynthia glared at Misty accusingly. "Then Elliot could have just eaten that. It looked delicious, didn't it El?"

"Uh yeah, sure,"

"Ha! Hear that?" Cynthia was smug. "He thought my cake looked delicious!"

"Bitch..." Misty glared at her.

"You know, MY cake is –" Alma began, but, in order to keep the fic T-rated, Cynthia hastily interrupted and spoke to Elliot.

"So what do you want?"

The pressure was on…. What should he say? All eyes were fixed on him, awaiting his answer.

"… White Castle," He said, slowly.

"White Castle?" Cynthia looked sickened. "You want White Castle?"

"Oh God," Alma moaned softly, and clutched her stomach. "I can practically feel the fat seeping through my porn-worthy body, making my taut abs and thighs flabby and fat…."

"Shut up!" Misty ordered. "If White Castle is what he wants, then White Castle is what he gets."

"…. But it's disgusting…." Alma's little nose wrinkled at the thought of it.

"I like it," Elliot said bluntly, although it wasn't true. He'd had it maybe twice, and both experiences had resulted in outright lethal farts for all who had eaten it.

"…. But on the upside, it would make my boobs larger," Alma winked at him.

"Are there even any in New York?" Cynthia mumbled to herself.

"I'm sure you can find one," Elliot said brightly. "I have faith in you."

"Okay," Cynthia didn't look pleased at all. "So who's going?"

"I'll buy if I can stay here with Elliot!" Alma said eagerly.

_Nooooooo!_ Elliot inwardly screamed.

"Are you sure?" Misty eyed her suspiciously.

"Uh huh!" She nodded and added solemnly. "And I swear, if he tries to make love to me then I shall put an immediate stop to his preposterous behavior. Girl Scout's honor!" She held up two fingers.

"You were only a Girl Scout for a month, Alma." Cynthia said.

"Go away."

"In that case," Misty said. "Cynthia, why don't you go ahead and get the food, and I'll stay here and watch Alma watch Elliot."

"No!" Alma wailed. "Go away, Misty! Can't you just leave Elliot and me for five minutes?... Wait…" She studied him intensely for a second. "…. Actually, make that ten."

"…. I don't think so."

"Pleeeeeeeeease?"

"No!" Misty looked over at Cynthia. "My purse is upstairs, take what you need. And just get me a hamburger and fries."

"Ditto." Alma said.

"Me too," Added Elliot.

"Burgers and fries are all that White Castle has…." Cynthia muttered to herself as she headed up the stairs, leaving Misty and Alma to care for Elliot.

* * *

Olivia and Kathy found Alma Prescott's apartment after a couple of wrong turns and running through a number of stop signs. This was mostly Kathy's fault, as she was supposed to be navigating but was instead jabbering on about how she was going to "rip those little bitches to shreds" once she got a hold of them. Olivia was pissed off. She had tried to convince Cragen to make Kathy stay away, but he had countered that Kathy would probably kill him if he didn't let her help them find Elliot.

"And besides," He had added. "It's not going to do any harm."

"But she's not a cop!" Olivia had snapped.

"... Olivia, she's going to kill me."

"I'll get over it eventually."

"I don't want to die!"

"SHE'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"Olivia!" Kathy screamed, appearing behind them suddenly, waving a piece of paper impatiently. "I've got the directions! Get off your lazy ass, let's get going and find Alma's place."

"If anyone's getting killed," Olivia muttered through gritted teeth to Cragen. "It's her."

"What's that?" Kathy asked sharply.

"Nothing…."

An hour and a half later, Olivia finally pulled in front of an apartment complex. She got out of the car and started towards the complex, Kathy hurrying behind her. They climbed a few flights of stairs before they reached Alma's apartment, number thirty-nine.

"Let me do the talking, all right?" Olivia said to Kathy, reaching out to knock on the door.

Kathy mumbled something rude under her breath that probably had to do with Olivia being a "female dog", but Olivia decided to ignore her, and she rapped loudly on the door.

"Who is it?" A man's voice came from behind the door somewhere.

This had to be Marty Webber, Alma's live-in boyfriend. Munch had told her that Alma lived with someone.

"Police," Olivia replied in a loud voice. "Could you please open the door?"

There was a short pause.

"But I didn't do nuthin'!" Came the reply.

"We just have some questions about your girlfriend Alma Prescott." Kathy suddenly said. Olivia turned and glared at her fiercely. Kathy stuck out her tongue at her.

There was a sudden cry of, "Oh shit!" followed by, "Hide me, Marty! Where can I hide?"

"Marty!" Olivia shouted.

"Is Alma out there with you!"

"No," Kathy said. "We're looking for her. That's why we have questions for you."

"Kathy –"

But the door quickly swung open, and Marty Webber stood in front of them, wearing a T-shirt and boxers.

And Olivia and Kathy were both silent when they saw him.

Marty Webber bore an eerie, striking resemblance to Elliot – perhaps what Elliot had looked like in his twenties. Marty was tall, broad shouldered, dark-haired, and blue-eyed. The only difference between Marty and Elliot, besides age, was the fact that, unlike Elliot, Marty seemed rather anxious and jumpy. He had a pushover demeanor that suggested that Alma held quite a lot of power in their relationship.

"Er… Marty Webber?" Olivia asked falteringly.

"Yeah, that's me." He said with a tight nod.

"Could we come in?" Kathy inquired.

"You're the police?" He said, looking nervous.

"Yes, I'm Detective Benson."

"Then who's she?" Marty nodded to Kathy.

"She's just along for the ride," Olivia interjected before Kathy could speak. "I'll be asking you the questions. Could I come inside?"

"Well I've uh... I've got company." And Marty blushed.

"I think she can wait ten minutes," Olivia responded primly.

Marty stepped back, and let them in, and then shut the door. There was a loud squeal from somewhere, and a door slammed.

"So I take it this company isn't your girlfriend." Olivia said. She sat down on the couch, as did Kathy. Marty sat in a chair opposite them.

He blushed again at the statement. "No…. She's my co-worker."

"How long have you and Alma been together?" Olivia asked and took out her pen and paper.

"Almost a year," He said. "She just moved in with me a month ago."

"But I assume you're not a happy couple?"

"Not anymore..." Marty sighed. "If she's not at work then she's watching TV with her friends…. She doesn't give me any attention. I get lonely." He let out a great sniff.

"Which friends does she watch TV with?" Olivia leaned in closer, writing furiously.

"Oh, uh…. Cynthia Kinney, who's a friend of Alma's little sister's, too, and some chick named Misty."

"Does Misty have a last name?"

"I can't remember it, sorry."

"Do you know where or how Misty and Alma met?"

"Um…. One of those weird fan club chat room thingies. Misty started a local one, and Cynthia and Alma joined it. Don't know what it's called. But Misty and Alma really hit it off, they're best pals."

"Let me guess," Kathy said suddenly. "It's a Law and Order: SVU fan club?"

"Yeah, how'd ya know?" Marty shrugged. "I never watched the show myself…. I'm against people raping other people. And to film it while it happens? That's just wrong."

"It's about cops solving cases involving sex crimes, you idiot!" Kathy growled. "Not about people raping each other!"

"…. Oh."

"Do you have a phone number or address for either Misty or Cynthia?" Olivia said, impatient.

"No, I don't think so," He shrugged again. "Sorry."

"You suck." Kathy stood. "Come on Olivia."

"I'm not done yet, Kathy," She sent the woman a withering stare.

"Oh…. Sorry…."

She sat back down.

"When did you last see Alma?" Olivia continued.

"This morning. I woke up, showered, and when I came out she was dressed and ready to go. Said she had the day off and Misty was coming to get her and they were going to go have some fun. Then she left. And I sat down and cried. And then I called Adeline. And then she came over and we had sex, and then we got tired and did –"

"We don't need the details." Olivia rolled her eyes. "And you haven't gotten any phone calls from Alma or anything?"

"None." Marty shook his head.

"All right…. Well that's about all we need from you as of right now. Thank you." Olivia stood.

Once they were back in the car, Kathy spoke.

"What do we do now?"

"We find this Cynthia girl," Olivia said.

There was a pause.

"….. That was really creepy back there." Kathy said quietly.

"Yeah…. I know." Olivia said. "But at least we know now that Alma definitely has a fascination with Elliot."

"She apparently likes sleeping with a guy who looks like him, at any rate…." Kathy said.

There was another pause.

And then they both had the same horrible thought, at the same time.

"Oh my God."

"Holy crap."

They looked at each other.

"She… She…. She…. She's going to…. _force herself_ upon him!" Kathy exclaimed. "But that's MY right! Only I can be the object of his lust! THAT'S IT! Olivia, step on it! I'm going to find that filthy slut before he gets her slimy paws on my hubby!"

To which Olivia said, "If she hasn't already, you mean."

And Kathy got pale.

Olivia felt like she might throw up.

The guy with the flashlight sat up in the backseat and cried, "BUM BUM BUUUUUM!"

* * *

**A/N:** I just wanted to apologize really quick for a few of the typos in the last chapter. Normally that never happen to me because I'm a stickler for spelling and grammar. But I think that what happened was that the keys on my keyboard froze up. So that's why there were some typos. That won't happen again – knock on wood. But if it does, just know that it's not me making an amateur mistake, it's my piece of crap laptop. Also…. I know a few of you were a little annoyed that I inserted Kathy into the story. So I want all of you, in your reviews to tell me truthfully – should I **_keep Kathy or ditch Kathy?_** Be honest. I'm writing this story to entertain, not to annoy. I can easily work either option into my story; it's just up to all of you…. And how about that season premiere? I was just utterly mesmerized! What a turn – Elliot undercover as a sex offender. That was definitely a wickedly wonderful episode. I think this season is going to be amazing. Anyway…. That's all! See you next week, in the next chapter of "Kidnapping Elliot Stabler"!

Love,

Q.W.


	5. Chapter 5: Anticipation

**_Author's Note:_** First and foremost, I am so sorry for not updating sooner. But school's been insanely busy, I'm in a production of _Babes and Toyland_, I got sick recently and either I just didn't feel like writing, I've had too much homework or my laptop wouldn't work…. It's just been a frickin' tough month. So I am sorry for not updating this story sooner, and hopefully I still have a few readers. I am not sure when chapter 6 is coming – maybe over Thanksgiving break? I'm not sure yet. Please don't hate me!

**_Disclaimer:_** I own our trio of crazy girls and the guy with the flashlight. Thaaaaaat's about it.

* * *

**Chapter 5:** _Anticipation_

* * *

By the time Olivia and Kathy showed up at Cynthia's house, night had fallen, and they were about ready to kill each other. Rather than have a catfight, however – which probably would have pleased most male SVU fans very, very much – they had resulted in 4th grade name-calling. 

"Poop head!" Kathy mocked Olivia.

"Dummy!"

"Booger brain!"

"Fart breath!"

"Puke face!"

"Stupid-head!"

They rang the doorbell.

An older bearded man with glasses opened the door.

"Hello, I'm Detective Olivia Benson," Olivia said, cheerful as a Girl Scout selling cookies. "I'm looking for Cynthia, does she live here?"

"She does, but she's not here," The man said, his face darkening. "She hasn't been home in about two days."

The man suddenly looked between Olivia and Kathy.

"…. You two aren't from that show, are you? That show Cynthia likes so much?"

"Well I am," Olivia said smugly. "She has been named a _Special Guest Appearance_ because she is divorcing the best, handsomest, funniest, devoted, loyal, most intelligent, huggable man she could ever imagine coming in contact with."

Kathy stared.

"…. Did I just say that out loud?" Olivia mused.

"Why… you… little…"

Olivia elbowed her in the stomach, and Kathy doubled over, hacking.

"Anyway," Olivia composed herself. "Does she disappear frequently?"

The man shrugged. "She disappears a lot, but she always comes home. It's that nutty club of hers. They leave and drive around and try to find some guy named Stabler, but Cynthia always comes home eventually."

"What can you tell us about this club?"

"Not much. Cynthia just started it recently."

"Did she say where she might be going?"

"Well, actually yes. She said something about meeting up at Misty's house…."

"Misty! Perfect! Do you know where she lives?" Olivia brought out her pad.

Kathy straightened and glared at Oliva. "Bitch."

"Whore. Do you know where she lives?"

"Her last name is Ambrose, I think, but I'm not sure."

Olivia jotted that down. "And the address?"

"Sorry, can't help you there."

"Thank you, sir, you've been a great help. Good night."

The door closed.

"That's it!" Kathy turned on Olivia, her face a mask of fury. "I've had enough of this! You're not making any progress, Elliot is still in danger, and you called me a whore! This is the last straw!"

She advanced on Olivia, as if she were about to hit her. Instinctively, Olivia backed up but –––

Suddenly, the guy with the flashlight leapt out in front of Olivia, blocking her from Kathy.

Kathy let out a little screech of surprise, "Holy shit! What the hell are you doing!"

"Something that Quirky Writer's reviewers and everyone who watches SVU has wanted to do for a really, really, really long time," The guy with the flashlight said menacingly.

And before Kathy could react, the guy with the flashlight threw the flashlight at her. For a moment it spiraled majestically through the air, and then it hit its target – CLUNK – right in the center of her forehead. Kathy immediately crumpled to the floor, unconscious. The flashlight flew back into its master's hand like a boomerang, and he caught it mid-air.

"I am **_so_** getting a recurring role in Quirky Writer's fanfictions," he said smugly.

* * *

Elliot had been let out of the chair, on the condition that he would be watched at all times by Alma. He was still handcuffed but, after some debating, they had agreed that Elliot's hands could be in front of him rather than behind, allowing him some more comfort. He had crashed on the couch, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

Until, that is, Alma decided to wake him….

"Elliot?"

In the darkness, Elliot squinted. He could just make out Alma standing a few feet away from the couch. How the hell did she get down here without him hearing! _What was she? _One of those horny fembots from Austin Powers or something?

"Alone at last," Alma said in a silky voice.

Oh God.

There were a couple of soft clunks as something hit the floor around him repeatedly, and then there was a loud click, and Alma's manically grinning face was illuminated by a small metal lighter. And to Elliot's terror, he realized that she was lighting candles.

And not just plain candles.

Oh, no.

They were scented candles.

_... Lavender _scented candles.

Why? Why, God, _why?_

In the light of the dozen or so candles, Elliot saw – again, to his absolute horror – that she was wearing pink, lacy lingerie.

"I just bought it last week at Victoria's Secret especially for you." She said brightly. "You like it?"

"Nope," He shook his head furiously, and averted his eyes. "Not at all."

"Oh reeeeally?" She said, a purr in her voice.

"Yes. Really."

"Well maybe I should take it off, then….."

"No!" His eyes were firmly fixed on the wall opposite him. "Please, Alma, don't do this."

"Why not?" Alma's voice was still smooth.

"Because I'm not even vaguely attracted to you!" Elliot burst out. "You kidnap me, starve me, mentally scar me, keep me away from my family and everyone I love, and you think that after all this shit, I'll want to sleep with you? You are one exceptionally crazy slut."

"But I'm pretty! Guys like to have sex with pretty girls!"

"Are you kidding me? You repulse me. I'd rather have sex with…. With…. With…. Cragen!"

Ewwwww…. Very bad mental image. _Oh well, _Elliot thought, _desperate times call for desperate measures._

"…. You don't think I'm pretty?" She blinked. "No one's ever said that to me before…."

"Well, the truth hurts,"

"But I'm pretty."

"Not to me, you're not."

"Why not? Why don't you love me?"

"_Love you!_ I loathe you! I think you're disgusting. I'm old enough to be your father. And I'm…. well, I'm separated, and she hates my guts for some reason, but _technically_ I'm still married! And sex outside of marriage is a sin. So… you lose."

"…. Please?" She inched closer. "I can change your mind, I know I can. And you and Kathy have been separated for _how long?_ And I bet you haven't done it in a reeeeeeally long time."

"Alma, I am not having sex with you!"

"I'm not asking you to have sex with me!" Alma snapped. "I am asking you to let me make sweet, passionate love to you!"

"I don't want _any_ sweet passionate love made to me by you!" Elliot shouted.

"Shhhhh!" Alma clamped a hand over Elliot's mouth.

He spoke furiously through it. She ignored him.

Alma leaned closer, stepping carefully across the candles, until she was at the couch, and she climbed on top of Elliot, straddling him.

"You know you want to be seduced, Elliot!" She giggled quietly. "I can tell."

She removed her hand and, lickety-split, kissed him before he could yell out. Elliot resolutely kept his mouth closed, thinking triumphantly to himself that no, she would NOT be getting any tongue from him.

Alma broke from him and slapped a hand over his mouth again, scowling. "You're no fun, Elliot! But I can change your mind."

She then leaned down and, with her free hand, grabbed a roll of duct tape. And upon seeing this, Elliot began to jerk about violently, twisting and trying to get away from her, but Alma's grip was freakishly strong.

"Don't be mad at me," She said and held the end of the piece of duct tape between her teeth, and tore it off with her other hand. The roll of duct tape fell.

What happened next was incredibly quick.

Before she could put the duct tape over his mouth, Elliot threw all of his weight into his left shoulder, rocked back and forth for a second, and then rolled off the couch.

"Iiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!" Alma emitted a loud shriek as the two fell, narrowly avoiding the candles.

Elliot scrambled to his feet, leapt over the candles, and started running for the steps.

"Noooooooooooo!" She screeched, hobbling after him. "Misty! HEY MISTY! He's escaping! He's escaaaaaaaaaaaaaping!"

He was up the stairs, almost to the door. He was nearly there!

The door suddenly flew open.

Elliot skidded to a halt, but couldn't duck in time –

– WHAM! –

Misty hit Elliot squarely in the face with The Mallet, and Elliot toppled head over heels down the stairs.

"I win!" Misty sang. She went down the steps and then squinted at the sight that lay before her: Alma spread-eagled on the carpet, her pink lingerie barely covering her privates, grasping the roll of duct tape as if it were a lifesaver, while at least a dozen candles dripped pungent wax on the carpet.

"…. You are an appallingly bad seductress."

* * *

I hope that quenched your appetite - at least, for now!

Love,

Q.W.


End file.
